My promise

I spent the summer before Grade 10 here.

Timbuktu, Mali, West Africa

I worked with a group of about 30 others to build a church out of sand, gravel, water and cement powder.

(Squinting won't help; I'm not in the picture.)

It was grueling and we saw things I couldn't have imagined:

We heard villagers banging drums all night in a religious ceremony.

I had tea in a grass-mat hut with an old man who didn't speak English and a translator.

I rode a camel (and almost fell off). Later I ate a piece of really-chewy greenish camel meat.

I ate sand because of how thickly it blew in the wind.

A villager yodelled for us while we shovelled.

We shopped in the local market.

I showered with a bucket.

I swam in the Niger River and we played Chicken on each others' shoulders. We could hear hippos grunting in the distance.

I felt alive.

While boarding the plane to leave, I turned to say goodbye. The sun was sinking, the sky was pink and the sand was glowing. And I promised I would be back.

Bamako, Mali, West Africa